The Meta

I have this weird dream from time to time about a house. Against my better judgement I buy it because the actual bones of the place are amazing and I see the potential to do so much with it. The people who live there clearly are second generation homeowners as the house is crammed full of beautiful old antiques and a insane mixture of belongings ranging from youth to adulthood.

The oddest part of the house is on the lower level where there are 6 bedrooms each equipped with a medical bathroom. Apparently this area was designed to accommodate the first generations families children who had various medical complications in their lives. This area of the house made me uncomfortable but I saw the potential again to create a B&B idea as the house was a walkout style basement.

Anyway I bought the house, it was a good price and although I was concerned about the time it would take to make it perfect I felt it a good challenge for me. On the day I took ownership I realized that I had my work cut out for me. Some of the personal effects had been removed but for the better part the house remained as was, heavily cluttered with years of belongings. There was a beautiful antique roll top desk bursting with papers and bills (I always wanted a desk like that) and it was the first thing I tidied up.

I began to worry about what I had done buying this house. About the undertaking of this job. I sat by the kidney-shaped concrete pool (we don’t have concrete pools in Canada though) and looked at the leaves floating on the water. I wondered if the pool was the only thing that was really in functioning order.

Now remember that I have had this dream many times so this is a piecing together of many dreams into one tale.

Last night I was busy taking control of a massive room on the lower level. It was about 15 feet wide and at least 60 feet long. It ran the entire length of the back of the house with some windows and several doors opening into the backyard. It was full of everything. I am sure I saw at least 15 bikes, skis, snowshoes, more and more clothes in boxes, it was overwhelming to say the least. I had 3 boys (well older teens anyway) who were helping me haul stuff outside onto a patio area. I know that’s what we did but I don’t recall actually seeing the space cleared out. I decided this was going to be a library type hallway with some chairs and what not throughout it.

I remember going into the area with the medical bedrooms to get some books, there was a room off one bedroom full of children’s books and I thought to start a pile in one corner of my project room of all the books I could find in the house. I ended up getting the boys to do it as I just couldn’t feel comfortable in that area of the house. Those rooms make me feel very sick to my stomach.

I’m sure that there’s a lot of self exploration in this repeated dream of mine. Me, the girl who finds such happiness in the simple pleasures of design is likely processing a lifetime of demons behind that subconscious storyline.

Either way I was awake by 7am and unable to get back to sleep. I decided to write it down for once. MAybe my brain can do more with it visiting it again in the conscious word.

Part of me really hopes that one day I dream about that house being completed. I think that is really important.